BETWEEN DROPS

The march of umbrellas.  Half stretched domes against turbulent clouds. Faces pitched forward.  The rhythm of drops is the exhaust from heaven.  It’s a temporary wash of mankind, touching coats and hats but not the heart.  There’s a walk of escape to a point up ahead. People blur the canvas of motion, fighting against the … More BETWEEN DROPS

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GRACEFUL

Black balusters and mahogany stairs lead gracefully to a parquet second floor landing.  Decades of voices carried the water of words to this quiet circular elegance surrounded  by bookshelves and photos of New York and Paris.  Gold painted plaster moldings wrap the area like decorative ribbons.  It all speaks with identity and belonging; above there … More GRACEFUL

WHICH WAY

Dogs barking, children in an abandoned lot.  Their game interrupted by a dispute. Small towns hold its players close, leaving little room to maneuver away from the center.  Girls look at magazines, shopping for images. Young men sweat with strength, struggling with self as they search beyond the package of where they are.  An old … More WHICH WAY

CLOSE THE DOOR

A cool skin night.  Wood smoke. An outpost called a diner harbors evening spirits resting between points at a highway turnoff.  Exiled souls from other places stare with deep nostalgia of where they should be.  Few ever break the cycle of bleary eyes and dark roads. A stitching of alignment bonds the strangers.  They eat … More CLOSE THE DOOR

DOWN DEEP

What does someone see when you offer them a glimpse beneath your water?   The pillows of your dreams Wilted emotions Thoughts without makeup Eyes listening but not seeing Sunless days The joy of rain Favorite words Fear of death The honey of a smile Running away Closed doors Acts of faith A song that … More DOWN DEEP

BUNK HOUSE

Red cowboy boots. Dust with living legends. Blue jeans, the working uniform. Skies with danger and full sun. The aroma of wet hay and work horse saddles.  Leather reins, the steering wheel bound to a bit. Seasons that blend.  Calloused hands. Facial lines, the human rings of trees. Sweat stained hats.  Beards and tattoos. Cold … More BUNK HOUSE

ANCIENT LINES

There is no unhappiness in a stonewall. Its industrial beauty shrugs with humility. Seasonal wars have no effect on its lines. There is nothing porous about it. The stones once buried within ancient soil are like diamonds and pearls, protecting the perimeter of its birthplace. Fortune blesses the license of its presence each day; a … More ANCIENT LINES

AN EMPTY SEAT

It’s a train car without wheels. A gathering for the subculture.  An information center of new and yet to happen. It’s a stopover between this and that.  Art deco, vinyl and stainless steel.  Formica countertops and a bathroom without a lock. A jukebox with failed neon’s struggles in the corner.  Eggs and coffee all day. … More AN EMPTY SEAT

ALMOST OVERHEAD

There was a caution in the air. A thin front of yellow yielded to heavy black layers of a disruptive sky crawling menacingly above. Thunder sounded from the hands of trauma, releasing repeated detonations. The calm surface air quickly became an unlikely opportunity for safety. Nature began to carve out its design of strength in … More ALMOST OVERHEAD

A FULL WASH

The favor of rain washed the city. Wandering masquerades of hats and umbrellas blossom the storm. Vehicle horns curse the air.  Sewer covers are the genius of casual art work.  Steam pipes eject from below the devils exhaust.  Puddles reflect the sky, passing tires shatter the image. Linens smoothly wave themselves dry. A cat warms … More A FULL WASH